Dust and Dreams
by Hand of Vengeance
Summary: Between the two of them, poets Horace and Housman declared human existence dust and dreams. Through short stories I characterise the dust and dreams of two souls: the endeavors and realisations, the aspirations and losses of Edogawa Conan and Haibara Ai.
1. 01  always

**.01 – always**

She always one-upped defeat. Regardless of the problem at hand, there was always a solution; and she always found said solution.

When she was imprisoned and slated for execution by the Syndicate, she escaped her sentence through a trash chute._Haibara – 1, Defeat – 0_.

When the same organisation burned down her lab to deny her access to the files on the toxin she'd created, she came up with an antidote anyway.  
_Haibara – 2, Defeat – 0_.

When _that boy _captured Vodka and shot her a contemptuous glance for having stayed home that night, she brought down the Syndicate within a week. (Her absence during Vodka's capture was due to the fact that she'd been home engineering the Organisation's downfall, but she let him think that with just a week to devise and execute her plan she'd achieved what he could only dream of doing.)  
_Haibara – 3, Defeat – 0_.  
And so on.

So when Microsoft Word, deeming itself the paragon of omniscience, saw fit to impose its all knowing presence upon every text based file in her computer, effectively stripping the meticulously chosen code of her newest project and replacing it with a useless tangle of nonsensical words, she calmly sat back and weighed her options. Half an hour and half a million tries later, an uncharacteristic, enraged scream tore from her lips.

There's always an exception to always.


	2. 02 beginning

**.02 - beginning**

With an impassive face, Haibara proceeded to slosh generous amounts of rubbing alcohol onto the gaping wound that disfigured her upper left arm.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Edogawa's voice piped out from the sofa.

"It's like my arm was on fire and I decided to feed the flames a tank of oxygen. So I have to say, no, this doesn't hurt. I'd actually characterise the sensation as more of a mild discomfort than a searing pain," Ai snapped in annoyance, eyes never leaving her work. But through the haze of pain, she sensed that she had overlooked something of quite substantial importance. Her head whipped around. "Kudo?"

"No," the boy answered. "Kudo Shinichi is dead. My name is Edogawa Conan."

Their friendship had never extended beyond a cool tolerance of the other's presence, and his delivery was met by silence. "Uh…so what happened to you?" he asked.

"You first," the strawberry blonde insisted, still staring at the boy before her as if he had returned from the dead. It had been five years, after all.

"Well, one day I just got sick of it all. The lies, the masquerade, the _suffocation_ of trying to force my past life into this life yet keep them separate, of trying to make Edogawa Conan into Kudo Shinichi Take Two. I couldn't juggle my two identities anymore. What was there left for Kudo Shinichi? He'd been gone for two years, and even if there had been some miraculous means of returning to his former body, an organisation of assassins was waiting for him to surface. He was making his love interest cry more than he made her smile, yet still he selfishly clung to his dreams of what if. It was time Kudo Shinichi faded away. I just needed some time to finalise, implement, and come to terms with the decision," he shrugged. "Your arm?"

"Oh, this. I was on my way home from school when some lunatic with a knife tried to attack me," Ai replied disinterestedly. "Don't worry, I kicked him. He'll be sitting at home, nursing his newfound infertility," she added quickly as Edogawa jumped up, concern in his eyes.

Yet to be pacified, Conan asked, "Are you sure it wasn't…?" he trailed off, a questioning look mingling with his earlier concern.

Haibara looked up, a flat stare on her face. "Well… actually, their standards have taken quite a dip, and yes, their newest field agents are idiots who can't handle unarmed schoolgirls."

Conan's eyes, formerly wide with concern, narrowed into slits. "Unarmed schoolgirl? My bad; I took you to be a mass murdering toxicologist."

"It's quite all right," Haibara replied coldly, "I didn't expect you to be able to differentiate."

Edogawa scowled and made a minute movement toward the soccer ball lying on the floor; Haibara reversed her grip on the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	3. 03 bleed

**.03 – bleed**

"Don't look at me like that." She tried to scowl, but found herself preoccupied trying to keep a grimace of pain off her face.

"What… how else am I supposed to look at you? You just took a bullet for me." _Never mind how quickly you reacted to its presence and made the decision to jump in front of me_.

For the first time in a long while, Edogawa Conan found himself completely bewildered. To be honest, he'd never really considered her an actual human being, this girl that now lay bleeding from a hole in her side. A hole meant for him. It was his blood that should have been painting the pavement, not hers. And all the while, he'd assumed that she had no morals, no conception of right or wrong, and no inkling of courage or duty—just an overriding primordial pre-wiring for survival. And yet… could it be that she followed morals as respectable as his?

"Arrogant bastard," she said, as if she could read his thoughts through the expression on his face.

Again Conan found himself rendered speechless. First time in three years, twice on the same day, and by the same person, nonetheless.

"Don't get used to it, Kudo. This is the last time I'll bleed for you."

The boy sighed in relief. Finally, a step toward normality.


	4. 04 bound

I hate authors' notes, but I have to say that I am pleased with the number of you who have deemed my story good enough to add to favourites or author alert lists yet too insignificant to leave a review for.

**.04 – bound**

He did it because he was bound by his word. _I will protect you_, he'd promised, and he didn't take commitments lightly, nor did he make them without intending to fully devote his efforts to ensuring that what was promised was delivered. He was very sorry he had to fulfil his promise in this way, but his priority was that she remained safe. He had to ask her to sit this one out. He was going in with a highly specialized team of officers chosen by the National Police Agency as well as agents from MI6 and CIA, and there was no need to endanger her life. He was really very sorry he had to do this.

Haibara sat bemused as she mulled over the mini-speech he'd made before leaving. After all, what else could she do, locked in a closet in the Kudo house, gagged, and bound?


	5. 05 captive

**.05 – captive**

Haibara forced herself to keep cool, resisting the urge to spring to her feet, dodge all obstacles, and make a mad dash for the door. After all, that method obviously wouldn't work in such a situation.

"Think… let me think," she thought as she tried to ignore her tingling senses, to calm the adrenaline coursing through her veins, to slow her pounding pulse. The window? Too high, courtesy of her own creation. Feign death? Like that would ever work.

And what was this god awful, piercing shrieking that shattered her concentration even considering the state of desperation induced by her dire situation? A new form of aural torture?

By character, Ai was the type that secretly harboured hope underneath her cynical presentation. However…

_All is lost_, she thought to herself bleakly.

Why, oh, _why_ had she agreed to karaoke night with Kudo?


	6. 06 cherish

**.06 ****– cherish**

Her mind snatched at anything relevant to him: from the hatred in his stare during their initial meeting to the intensity in his gaze as he promised he would protect her forever, from the amusement in his expression after he rearranged the letters on her keyboard to read 'pwned by kudo' to the sheer terror on his face when he learned that Ran had been taken by the Syndicate, from the difficulty they both encountered muffling their laughter after he tackled her into the snow to the serenity of the countless nights they'd spent watching the stars.

She knelt, unusually dry-eyed for a child, kissed the petals of the red rose in her hand, and laid the flower before a headstone that read,

'Shinichi Kudo 1977—1995

A hero forever remembered for his noble act of self-sacrifice'

She rose and walked away, a soft smile on her face. Memories are for cherishing—not for fearing, not for hating, and not for lamenting. He'd taught her that.


	7. 07 foiled

**.****07 – foiled**

...in which Ai is a poser and Conan speaks like a twelve year old girl.  
Inspired by Tama Saga's comment that I didn't screw up by having very much out of character characters listen to my favourite bands. And… because I remember when I was utterly worthless as a writer. Who knows… perhaps I still am. :)  
--

'Ai…' Edogawa Conan struggled to keep his speech from stuttering as the lyrics from the chorus of his favourite song played in his head. _I wanna be the one in your life, I wanna be the one by your side. I wanna be the one to show you oh, baby, you should be mine._

'What up, G.' The little scientist's response was bordering upon mechanical, her attention focused on Snoop D-o-double-g in her headphones._ Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice. Laid back with my mind on my money and my money on my mind._

Meanwhile, Conan was having a bit of trouble selecting his next words. 98 Degrees, while a good, respectable band (one of his favourites, actually), just weren't quite confession opener material.

'Let me be your hero,' he whispered in his best impersonation of Enrique Iglesias.

'Straight up, homes.' _Now that I got me some Seagram's gin, everybody got they cups; but they ain't chipped in._ 'Yo, you seen a fifth of Grey Goose lyin' around the crib?'

Edogawa blinked, a little disconcerted that his declaration of love had been cut off.

'Oh my God! Like, I think you drank it all that afternoon.'

'For real? Damn.'

Forget bubblegum pop lyrics; Conan had just found an even better way to Haibara Ai's heart.

'I'll just, like, go get you a handle, 'kayy?' He reached for his coat.

'You'd do that? Dope. But I'm straight; I gots another around somewhere.'

Edogawa stared. 'But you, like, haven't left the professor's house in two weeks, and all the while you've been, like, _downing_ Grey Goose… enough to make a, like, life-sized statue of Tupac. And you still have more?'

'That's how I roll, yo. Aite, it's been good, but I gotta bounce. These lab results got me trippin', so I have to redo the tests, feel me?'

Conan sighed as Ai disappeared down the basement stairs. This had to be the twentieth time he'd tried to make this confession. Foiled. Yet again.


End file.
